


I'll Close My Mouth (I Won't Say a Word)

by Shaderose



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Adoption, Aliens, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, Belonging, Billy Kaplan and Tommy Shephard are Brothers, Billy Kaplan is a good bro, Bonding, But theyre here theyre queer its a good time, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Experimentation mentioned, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Insecurity, Juvie, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Minor Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Minor Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan - Freeform, No beta we die like cassie, Pansexual Tommy Shephard, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Pillow Fights, Team as Family, The Kaplans are the Best Parents, Trauma, and they love each other very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:27:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28453857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose
Summary: "Knowing that he doesn't belong. Because he doesnt, doesn't fit into the clean, sleek environment, with his too sharp frame and his dirtied, ripped up sneakers. His old tattered clothes, and his skin riddled with scars. Imperfections. Flaws.A man of loud, harsh words and bruised knuckles, quick fingers and slick feet, in a world of softness, gentle and quiet.Of course he doesn't belong. Why would he? This isn't his home.And yet, Mrs. Kaplan, with her too warm eyes and her too gentle smile, tells him, "Welcome home," anyways.Yeesh."--A story about friends, family, insecurities, truth and, most importantly, the true meaning of love.
Relationships: America Chavez & Tommy Shepherd, Billy Kaplan & Tommy Shepherd, David Alleyne/Tommy Shepherd, Jeff Kaplan & Tommy Shepherd, Jeff Kaplan/Rebecca Kaplan, Kate Bishop & Tommy Shepherd, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Rebecca Kaplan & Tommy Shepherd, Teddy Altman & Tommy Shepherd, Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan
Comments: 17
Kudos: 115





	I'll Close My Mouth (I Won't Say a Word)

**Author's Note:**

> Heya!!  
> I read the young avengers comics about a bit ago, and just... fell instantly head over heels for all of them, and have basically been fixating on them for them for the past ever. So I knew I had to write something for them, and Tommy is definitely one of my favorites so I figured I'd start with him!
> 
> And then this mess was born. Its a half Canon, half not Canon, very very long, mostly ooc mess, but its my mess, and I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do!
> 
> I definitely wanna write some more with these characters and this Fandom, so you may see more from me soon, but we'll see
> 
> That being said, I hope you all enjoy!! 💗💗
> 
> Just a warning for swearing throughout, a few sex jokes, and hints at Tommy's past Trauma (including experimentation, juvie, and child abuse). Stay safe yall

Wow.

This is...

Tommy doesn't even know what to say, what adjective (Adjective is a long, weird word. Why is it even a word? Why is it the word that symbolizes that meaning, and that meaning _specifically_? Add the jec into the tive?) to use for this situation. Exciting? Nerve-wracking? Shitty? All of the above?

What do you say to describe moving in with your "brother"s (soul brother? Twin brother from another life who is still your twin brother ish in this one? Somehow? In some way? Kinda?) family, who you only met a week or two ago, when him and his friends broke you out of Mutant Juvie?

Don't get him wrong, he's quite thankful to be out of that hell hole after many, many years (or whats felt like many many years, time is fast and slow all at once for him, though to be fair, time is just a man-made construct, it doesn't really exist, so who's to say it _hasn't_ been years? Months? Eons? Infinity?), but being forced to live with Billy's family... wasn't really what he had in mind for when he got out.

What did he have in mind?

Well, a lot of things.

He wanted to grab some pizza at this run down pizza joint in the middle of nowhere that made The Best Pizza known to man (he wishes he could've gotten to known the few people that run it, but when money's tight, ie non existence, you make due with what you can, and what Tommy can do _really well_ is _run_ ), maybe go to a party to pick up some hot chicks (or just _talk_ to them, to be honest, he doesn't really like the whole kissing-making out-more thing, he likes the _beginning,_ the blood roaring in his ears and flushing his cheeks and the butterflies in his lungs), maybe get drunk and have a dance or two. Find his old family, maybe have them accept him back with open arms (even though he knows they wouldn't, but a man can hope and dream, right?), maybe beat the shit out of them (a much, much more realistic option, but Tommy doesn't tend to _like_ reality all that much, and reality doesn't tend to like _him,_ so they're even).

Something like that.

 _Anything_ but this.

"Oh come on, it's not _that_ bad." Speak of the devil, Billy Kaplan himself chuckles from behind him, looking not similar At All to each other as they stare up at the towering house in front of them.

At the _Kaplan_ house stood in front of them.

God, was he really doing this?

Tommy just snorts back at him, narrowing his eyes at the two or three story building, with nice brick walls and fancy wooden window blinds. A stupidly pretty dark blue door, with two pots of flowers surrounding it. In the back of a perfectly maintained porch. On a dumb, stupid, dumb perfect plot of land. Ugh. "Its boring."

It's better than anything he's ever had before.

"Boring for you, maybe, Mr. Juvie."

" _William Kaplan!"_ A woman's voice rings out from the porch, and Tommy stifles a laugh, not even needing to look behind him to know Billy flinched like a bitch. Ah, motherly scolding. "Be nice!" Ah shit, she's coming closer. He flicks his eyes over to her, stepping out from underneath the awning and waving them over.

Not too close then. Cool, cool. He can handle things from a distance.

Everything is always better from a distance.

He looks back to Billy (well, just behind him, to be honest, but close enough to where it _looks_ like he's looking at him), and tilts his head towards the door. "Well, come on then, _brother_. Show me the way."

He ignores the way Billy huffs at him in favor of snickering all the way to the door.

He ignores the way he gawks at the sheer size of the inside, the way the entire room is open concept, a living room with slightly worn _leather couches_ leading into a kitchen with a _marble countertop_ and _golden sink_ , with giant ass windows bringing in all of the light from outside and making the room... _glow._ He ignores the way Rebecca and Jeff Kaplan fit so _perfectly_ into the space, the way their crisp shirts and iron pressed outfits blend seamlessly into the environment, ignores the way Billy melds into them without a flaw, even with his baggier, nerdy Emperor Palpatine shirt and ripped black jeans. Ignores the way the room feels _alive,_ with the loud chattering (read, yelling) from Billy's brothers huddled around the kitchen island (they have an _island_ , and a fridge with a _water dispenser)_ , with the way their parents tell them to quiet. Ignores the way the two boys stare at him, warily.

Knowing that he doesn't belong. Because he _doesnt_ , doesn't fit into the clean, sleek environment, with his too sharp frame and his dirtied, ripped up sneakers. His old tattered clothes, and his skin riddled with scars. Imperfections. _Flaws._

A man of loud, harsh words and bruised knuckles, quick fingers and slick feet, in a world of softness, gentle and quiet.

Of course he doesn't belong. Why would he? This isn't _his_ home.

And yet, Mrs. Kaplan, with her too warm eyes and her too gentle smile, tells him, "Welcome home," anyways.

Yeesh.

"Bring him up to your room, Billy," Jeff gruffs with a grin, after he had shaken Tommy's hand in a greeting (which was _weird_ and _uncomfortable_ and _unnecessary, why did he have to do that?_ ), and the brunette only sighs, starting on the trek up the stairs, Tommy quickly in tow, his backpack of clothes (of _everything,_ he didn't have that much to his name, it wouldn't be good for being on the run and the police didn't let them keep too much, anyways) on his back.

Turns out, they're sharing a room.

"Mom and dad's got the master, and my brothers got the other room." Billy explains apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. Though, he doesn't seem to pleased with the situation either, from the side eyes and his shoulders held high, his neck tense.

Tommy doesn't blame him.

He doesn't even respond, just flopping onto the bottom bunk of the (seemingly new) black metal bunk bed placed in the room, looking out of sorts with the wooden wardrobes and the comic posters placed all over the walls, groaning a little too loud at the plush mattress beneath his muscles, sinking underneath his weight, beneath his fingertips (its got _memory foam_ -).

"Hey!" He blinks back up at Billy's now upside down face, grinning ear to ear at the unamused look etched onto his features (features that look way too similar to _his-)_ "Thats _my_ bed."

"Not anymore, lil bro." Tommy sighs, crossing his arms underneath his head and shutting his eyes, shifting to get comfortable.

He can _f_ _eel_ Billy rolls his eyes at him, before he mutters something under his breath that Tommy can't hear, his footsteps echoing out of the room, and a door clicking shut.

Yeaaah, this is gonna be _great_.

* * *

After a short nap in Tommy's new bed (the top bunk, because apparently in the middle of sleeping Billy has teleported him to the top and took the bottom for himself, the bastard), and a very, very, _very_ awkward dinner, with everyone just staring at each other (staring at _him,_ making him feel even _more_ like an intruder even though he _wasnt the one to offer to be sheltered here in the first place_ ), making very short small talk with abrupt answers and long, long pauses, Tommy has come up with a Plan.

Get a job, save up money, buy his own apartment, and get the _fuck_ out of here.

Sounds like a pretty simple, straight forward plan, right? It'll take a few months, sure, which sucks, but it won't be too too bad, right?

 _Wrong._ So very, very wrong.

Let's just ignore the fact that staying in the Kaplan house for months is going to be Literal Torture for the moment (they're all too... nice, eerily so) and focus on the fact that there's this thing, you know, called a _Criminal Record_. And on said criminal record, it basically says everything you've ever done wrong in your life. And on Tommy's (because yes, fun fact, people who go to Juvie have a criminal record), it details _stealing_ , and _robbing,_ and _mutant_ , and _bad, bad, bad._

Which makes step one of that very short, very "simple" plan extremely difficult, if not impossible. Which makes step two and three _also_ very impractical, if not impossible.

 _Yay_.

A loud snort gets cut off from below him, and then the sound of blankets shuffling fills the darkened room, before it goes back to momentary silence. Who knew Billy was a snorer? Probably Teddy, he figures, assuming they've slept together before (sexually or not, he wouldn't be surprised one way or the other with them), but definitely not Tommy. This is the _worst_ way to find out.

(He wonders, briefly, if he's a snorer too, but quickly pushes the thought away).

He should be used to it, too, thats the worst part. Plenty of his old roomies snored, some loud honks, other softer sniffles, but there's something about having just _one person_ , breathing and shifting and snuffling below him thats making his fingers twitch and the back of his neck itch, that's sending his brain into overdrive and making it scream at him to _go go go, get out of there, run run run-_

And before he knows it, he's in the middle of the street, in the middle of what seems like nowhere, either side of the road leading to dusty planes with a few patches of long grass and, far far away in the distance, a small farmhouse sits, shimmering a silver in the bright moonlight.

He pants heavily, bowing his head as the light drizzle sprays onto his skin, dampening his hair and making it stick to his forehead, but then his gaze flickers downwards and his breathing catches.

He's staring down at a body of water, just in front of his torn up sneakers (he must've put them on before he left, subconsciously, thank god, he doesn't wanna tear up his feet again if he doesn't have to), and it stares back, reflecting from his legs up the sight of a young, scangly teen, with bags under his eyes and cigarette burn scars on his arms, looking way too innocent with wide jade eyes and raised brown eyebrows, and his hair... almost seems to _glow_ , matching the silver silk stretching over the sky. And just beyond him, just behind him, sits the moon, her elegance just peeking over his shoulder, her light laying over him like a soothing hug and her hand resting gently on his arm, as if to tell him that _its okay_. Its _okay._

It's okay?

But it isn't, Tommy chest heaves, gazing away, almost _pleading_ into _n_ _othing._ It _isnt._

She just watches, steadily. Hand heavy and comforting. Light a blanket of hope.

_It will be._

* * *

After a day of running around town (literally) to find all of the places that were hiring, applying to them a few days later and doing one or two interviews a few weeks after that (more than he expected, honestly), Tommy, somehow, miraculously, has a job.

Its at a run down noodles shop in the middle of nowhere, New York, but honestly? Its better than he expected, seeing as he didn't expect anyone to take in a criminal mutant vigilante (not that he told them about the vigilante, superhero-on-the-side part) _at all_. But the owner, Kyle, seemed super chill and hella lax, especially after he saw his power was superspeed (even with the warning that he might accidentally blow things up, he learned to warn about that after the School Incident), knowing he could do some of the work in a fraction of the time (even if Tommy _felt_ all of the time, one of the downsides of being a speedster, to the world, you seem sped up, but to you, its all the same time, same speed, same motions of the day, everything else is just slowed down).

But one of the _pluses_ of being a speedster, and getting his job for this shift of sweeping, mopping the floors, and wiping the tables down faster was that, after finishing his duties, he could relax in the staff room and just... chill, for the rest of his time. Or, most of the rest of it, as sometimes he was called to help out if they got a rush (usually around lunch), or if the tables or floors needed to be redone again (which happens more often than you'd think), or if they found some other random job for him during the day.

Like today, for an example, when his favorite coworker, David, asked for his help with the dinner rush (begrudging, but he still did it, so Tommy takes it as a win).

Realistically, it's probably too soon to be picking favorites, he's only been working for about a week, but David doesnt-know-his-last-name-yet has worked on almost every shift Tommy has been on, a silent, steady worker who puts his head down, does his job, and somehow, for some reason, listens as Tommy tends to ramble out loud about one thing or another, whatevers running through his head that day. He usually doesn't respond, and if he does its just a simple hum, but he hasn't gotten tired of him yet or told him to shut up, and thats all that matters.

Is the bar really that low?

Yeah, yeah it is. What about it?

There's just a pull between them. A _bond_ that Tommy can't explain, and he doesn't bother to wonder about it for too long. They even seem around the same age, too, so its like a match made in heaven (even though its definitely one sided, and David's probably just trying to be nice, and do his job, and Tommy's probably just annoying him, and he should probably just be quiet-)

"Thomas?"

Yup. Right. Working.

"Tommy," He corrects distracted, shaking himself out of his head as he pours in three bags of noodles into seperate pots in the span of a second, turning to give David a wide grin that only gets him a raised eyebrow and a loud snort in return. And a mumble of "Show-off" under his breath, but it sounded _mostly_ teasing. He thinks. Hopefully. "Told ya to call me Tommy, didn't I?"

The other boy just sighs. "Yup," David pops the p, as he stirs the vegetables cooking in another pan off to the side. "And I told _you_ that nicknames are unprofessional in the workplace."

"'In the workplace,'" Tommy echoes as he laughs, stirring the pots and watched the noodle rise to the top only to fall back to the bottom again in the boiling water. "Cause we work in _such_ a high class environment." He emphasizes his words by waving quickly to his outfit, a worn out gray tee and a pair of black jeans, barely a uniform outside of an apron he had shoved on quickly before his shift, and David just ignores him, getting the boxes for the orders ready at the same time as Tommy dumps the ready noodles into a strainer. "Come _on_ , Big D," He whines when the silence gets too much, and he can _feel_ David's grimace from behind him as he grabs the strainer and pours the still wet noodles into the vegetables and sauce. "Loosen up a little."

Tommy nudges the other man as he stirs, snickering as David rolls his eyes again.

Yeah, they were best buds. He just hasn't admitted it yet.

Tommy watches for a moment, as David finishes up the meals and serves them with a smile, blinding with slightly crooked teeth that just makes him seem a little more _real_. Life can be hazy, blurry, and cloudy to Tommy, but occasionally he'll get moments like this, when everything tends to freeze, and he can see things crystal clear. He can see each line on David's face, each divet and scar and dimple on each of his cheeks, each pore and imperfection on his darker skin, the uptilt to his lips and the faint crinkles next to his eyes. They're almost level with the horizon that he can see just beyond the windows, shining and bright, matching the warmth and the bright yellows, the flaming oranges of the sunset.

Then, the customers are walking away, and David calls back without a glance, "Thomas, the sauce is burning."

And the world starts its rotation again.

* * *

"You know, I hate the way they did Hans in this movie. He clearly wasn't a villain at the beginning, they just-"

A deeper voice cuts in, rumbling with faint laughter. "America, dude, shut the _fuck up._ "

"Hey! Don't talk to my girlfriend like that!" And theres Kate, coming to the rescue (even though America is the Last person who would need rescuing, though to be fair, all of them can handle their own).

"Don't talk to _my_ boyfriend like that."

"Oh _gag_." Tommy exclaims after Billy's words, before leaning his head back with a stifled sigh, pushing back the way his lips twitch upwards as everyone bursts into laughter.

He lets the joyful sounds echo around him as he slips further into the incredibly comfy couch, his eyes falling shut as he listens and breathes and feels...

So terribly alone.

They were having a movie night at the Altman residence, a small homey apartment with family pictures all over the walls and little trinkets scattered everywhere, and _most_ of the team was there. Most being the important part, as Eli hadn't be able to show for one reason or another.

Which was the right choice, to be honest.

Because, without him, that left Tommy with Billy and Teddy (a couple), and Kate and America (also a couple). Which meant _he_ was the fifth wheel.

And sure, he wasn't _left out_ by any means, the others made sure to drag him into their conversations and nudge him back into focus whenever he got a little too much into the fantasies and mysteries and dreariness in his head, but there was this sense of... closeness, between the four of them, this intimacy and _knowing_ that Tommy doesn't understand. He doesn't know if its because he isn't in a relationship, or if its something else that his dumbass just can't comprehend, but either way, it leaves a deep ache in his chest like a blackhole, right below his lungs, that sucks all the excitement and happy feelings out from his veins the moment he feels them and leaves him feeling... hollow. Empty.

He gets another nudge from America, sat on his left and continuously giving him weird looks that he purposely ignores, and tries to push it down. Push it away. Make it _stop existing._

He blinks away the blurriness edging around his vision, and focuses on the first thing his senses pick up on. The warm buttery scent of popcorn, the bowl sat in between Billy and Teddys lap, that _could_ get passed his way if he really asked, but... well...

What's the fun in asking?

Tommy's back in his seat before anyone can even think, stuffing the handful of popcorn he had grabbed into his mouth, almost choking on it as Billy lets out an ungodly sound that sounds _barely_ like the dramatic gasp he thinks it was supposed to be.

And _does_ choke when he hears, "You bitch!"

Thankfully, America smacks him, hard, on his back and the kernel falls back onto his tongue, leaving him plenty of breath to cough, wheeze, and laugh loudly around it, which quickly turns into a yelp as a flying pillow smacks him in the face.

It falls into his lap as he (and the room, outside of the dialogue of the movie) go silent, Tommy's gaze steady onto Billy's face, his shuttering shoulders (bouncing the arm wrapped around them) and forced blank expression, the crinking around his eyes. He then flickers to the other people in the room quickly, Kate hiding silent snickers behind the back of her hand, America burying her face into Kates black hair, hiding her grin, and Teddy seemingly holding his breath, bracing for what was about to happen.

"Oh," Tommy breaks the silence, voice low, calm, methodical. "It. Is. _On!_ "

There's a woosh, and then a squeal (a full blown, high pitched squeal) as Billy get thumped heavily with the same pillow he threw at Tommy. Billy grabs it and tries to yank it out of Tommy's hand from the other side of the couch, but Tommy's physically stronger, and tugs it back, hitting him with it again as someone in the group sends out a battle cry.

"Pillow fight!"

The room erupts into thumps and playful screeches as the others start to fight, but Tommy can't focus on it too long, only glancing up for a second before Billy is taking advantage of his distracted state and pulling on the fabric hard, too hard, sending Tommy stumbling over the end of the couch and onto Billy, who's scream gets cut off with an oof as Tommy collapses on top of him, all sharp corners and boney elbows, the air rushing out of him.

Tommy jerks back quickly, planning to sit up onto his elbows to ask if he's okay, but then he's getting kangaroo kicked onto the other end of the couch, and then Billy's on top of him, holding him down as he smacks him over and over with the pillow, Tommy squirming, gurgling random noises and _laughing_ , loud and random and _free_ , trying to defend himself but being unable to.

Or so he thinks, before he realizes, and squeezes his knees on either side of Billy's sides and throwing them off the edge of the couch, until they bang onto the hardwood floor _loudly,_ the sound quickly swallowed by both of their groans.

" _Ow_ , why did you do that, asshole?" Billy moans, dramatically, smacking him again with the pillow to show he isn't actually upset, and Tommy grabs it with a snort, smacking him back.

"You're the one that got rough first- _hey!_ " Tommy squeaks as he gets hit again, but from behind, and turns to see Kate giving him an grin, tear stains on her face from her evil cackling, her girlfriend off to fight one on one with Teddy. 

He loops around and smacks her hard in the side, and when she staggers slightly, wheezing with joy, he stands and hits her again, this time in the head. He underestimates her power, though, (did he _really_ just quote Star Wars in his head? Goddammit Billy), and can only watch as she ducks his next blow, spinning underneath his arm and grabbing onto the fabric of the pillow case, yoinking it from his grasp before spinning again and-

_Bop!_

Right to the head, smacks him _hard_ and sends him reeling into a giggle fit, collapsing back onto his knees again.

Thankfully, before he can get hit again and have to beg for Kate Bishops mercy, he hears a loud gasp, and Teddy yells, "Wait, wait, pause! Let It Go is coming on!"

And they all freeze, turning towards the screen to see that Elsa is climbing up the snowy mountain and is, indeed, about to start singing.

Tommy barely notices as the other starts to sing along, loudly, off key, Teddy and Billy starting off (from his spot on the floor, where he seemed to stay ever since Tommy knocked him there), before Kate and America joined in afterwards, out of breath but full of life.

When he feels the blood rushing through his veins, the ache in his cheeks from smiling so much and the way his chest can't stop convulsing with laughter, the way he gasps in air, his lungs full, and-

 _Free_. He feels _free_ , for the first time in a long time. Full. _Alive._

And, as he glances to the others, sprawled out wherever they landed, singing loudly and awfully in this small comfy room, thinks that.. maybe, possibly, he could get used to this.

* * *

Its a slow day.

The store has only had one or two customers this morning, and a quieter rush hour than they usually have. Now, its just empty, not a person nor customer in sight.

Because of this (and _only_ because of this and _not_ because this is what he usually does all shift), Tommy's been sat on his ass the entire day, playing through the select few apps on his phone that catch his attention, scrolling through tiktok until the clickbaity, over the top videos start to get on his nerves, and just generally bouncing in his seat, waiting for _something_ to do (even though he _has_ things to do, he just doesn't want to do _those_ specific things).

The only good thing about today is that David is working with him again. David _Alleyne_ he had figured out, when he had checked the schedule in the bosses office for the next week. That he definitely didn't have already memorized and totally didn't do just to find out his last name. Nope, not at all, thats creepy, why would he do that?

(Just because Tommy wants to be friends with him doesn't mean he's good at _making_ friends. He's trying, thats what counts, right?)

David is the one who helps the very few customers they had gotten that day, before doing Literally anything else to keep himself busy. Putting the ingredients into alphabetically order (you know, like a nerd), making sure they're all stocked and ready in case they get a random rush, cleaning the stove tops and grills, pots, pans, and plates, until he's _finally_ out of chores to do (or steam, either or).

The man collapses in the chair next to him with a loud huff, and then groans as he rolls his shoulders and neck, the loud pops echoing in the smaller staff room.

Tommy ignores the buzz that rushes through him at the groan, the faint heat of his cheeks that follows, and just raises an eyebrow, teasing, "Long day?"

David doesn't lean his head back down, keeping it tilted towards the ceiling with his eyes squeezed shut, glasses slightly askew on his face. " _So_ long." He repeats, and Tommy just snorts at him, feeling his pain. Kind of. Sorta.

He considering starting in on a random ramble like he usually does, but David seems extra tense today, extra stressed about _something_ , and Tommy doesn't wanna push his luck, or make it worse. A small, tiny part of his brain whispers that David probably prefers it all the time, the silence, and that he should stop talking to him all together. Tommy tries to ignore it.

And so, he pushes himself off of the rickety white table in front of him and stands, stretching out his back and his legs, shakes out his arms. Takes a breath.

Time to get to work.

It takes maybe five minutes in real time. Maybe.

He grabs the window cleaner and a clean rag, wiping away smears and handprints from the big windows at the front of the store. Grabs the hand wipes, wiping away the grime from the counter, the register, the handle on the door, the door itself. Grabs the table cleaners and _another_ clean cloth, wiping down each of the tables and chairs until they're sparkling in the artificial yellow lights. Grabs the broom, sweeps the staff room, the kitchen, the seating area, and dumps out the dust and dirt in between. Grabs a bucket, fills it with water and soap (which is the part that takes the longest, as Tommy can't speed that up sadly), and mops all of those same areas.

It takes five minutes to everyone else, each tick of a second on the analog clock on the right wall of the store take double, or triple the usually time.

Five minutes.

But, to him, it feels like _hours._

He whizzes back into the staff room once done, holding a water bottle to his mouth, gulping down ice cold water before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing as he tastes the chemicals he had used only moments before still lingering. His gaze flicks up for a moment, not thinking, before he freezes at the sight of David staring back at him, head down now and eyes almost _piercing_ as he stares him down.

Tommy's first thought is _oh god is he not okay with mutants?_ But thats quickly dismissed, David's seen him use his powers before. The fierceness in his eyes doesn't seem angry, anyways, more so... _sad_ , like _grief_. Like _loss._

Its something Tommy recognizes a little too well, having seen it in thrown back at him in the mirror one too many times.

But he only glances away. He may not know too much about making friends, but he knows _enough_ to know better about pushing on a seemingly raw, touchy subject (even as the nosiness in him _begs_ to pick and prod and push).

He apparently doesn't _have_ to ask.

"Its a rush." David murmurs, and Tommy's head jerks back towards him, licking the last of the liquid off of his lips, tilted, curious. David just waves indecipherably at him. "The speed. Being a speedster."

His tinted eyebrows furrow. "You're a speedster too?"

The other man just laughs, but its hollow. "Nah, im-" He picks at the texture on the table. "No, not a speedster. I was a mutant, though." He corrects, soft and low, and Tommy considers, for a long few moments, letting the silence sit as his mind spins with pros and cons and _should I?_

"Was?" He finally decided on, careful and cautious, glancing near enough to David to see his body language, to be able to read him and get out of there quickly if things go sour. But he only seems to deflate like a popped balloon, his shoulders hunching and his finger stopping its picking, a faint line on his forehead.

David doesn't respond right away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest defensively (Tommy Absolutely Ignoring the way his skin ripples around his collarbones, showing slightly as his v neck bunches up) and scanning Tommy, looking for _something_ that he seems to find if the faint huff he exhales afterwards says anything. He only murmurs one word, but its enough. "M-Day."

Tommy's mouth opens in an oh, before he drops his gaze again. He doesn't know too much about the Incident, only having heard of it through the grapevine of whispers that travel through a Mutant Juvie, of people who had and lost, and went crazy because of it. Of people who lost their powers, and fell into the wrong crowd, not knowing who they were anymore without them. Tommy's thankful he never lost his power, cause he'd honestly do the same thing. Lose himself, fall to the dark side, become a sith or whatever (take two, _dammit Billy_ ).

He's thankful David hasn't gone down that path. Or at least, he doesn't seem like he has.

Tommy thinks it'll be left at that, the somewhat awkward silence holding between them, thick with unanswered questions and other things Tommy can't figure out, but then David's voice rings out again in its deeper, smoother tone. "I was a telepath, a strong one. Had been since I was a kid." He sighs, slipping further into his seat, his eyes clouding into foggy, stormy memories. "Everyone I came into contact with, I gained their memories. _All_ of them. Cyclops, Wolverine..." He drifts off, before blinking, his gaze clearing as a hand trails up to scratch at his chin, almost subconsciously. An anxious tick. "When I- when M-Day happened, my brain shut out all of my memories that I had gained. I had... _nothing._ " His voice chokes up, slightly, and Tommy winces, _shit_ this is getting too personal, he doesn't know what he'll do if David cries. He pretends not to notice as he conspicuously wipes his eyes, and sighs, staring down at his hands. "Thankfully, one of the others could restore the memories my brain locked away, even if they couldn't restore my powers."

"Wait," Tommy sits up, waving his hands around a little too fast. "So you're still a genius? I mean, I knew you were a smartass, but-" David snorts at the tease, thankfully, even as he continues, "You're still a brainiac? Why do you work _here?_ "

He just raises an eyebrow at him, but David seems amused more than anything, so Tommy counts it as a win. " _That_ is what you got from that?"

Tommy shrugs, and smirks. "I mean, yeah, duh. Gotta note the important stuff."

David just laughs, a full blown, unexpected laughter that echoes around the room, and Tommy's heart swells. Crisis averted.

And when David sends him a blinding grin, with a sparkle in his eyes and a look of pure thankfulness, Tommy's face warms, and he realizes maybe, maybe he spoke too soon.

* * *

"Wear a condom." Tommy chides on his way down the stairs, skipping each step on the right side as Billy and Teddy ascend them on the left. He isn't surprised when he gets shoved heavily into the railing, snickering loudly at his soul-brother-but-not-really's sigh, calling out behind him. "Don't be silly, wrap your willy! Or, I guess, wrap your _billy_ in this case-"

"Fuck off!" And a loud slam is the response, and Tommy can't help the full, loud guffaw that escapes him afterwards, as he jumps onto the hardwood of the main floor, the cold seeping through his socks and making him shiver.

He assumes Billy was only teasing in his anger. He hopes he didn't actually upset him.

He wonders why it would matter so much if he did.

"Good afternoon, Tommy," A warmer voice from in front of him says, and he doesn't even have to look up to know who it is.

He moved to the kitchen, he realizes suddenly, spotting the gleaming marble island and the nicely stained wooden cabinets. Plants on a smile, like he always does, and politely responds, even as he doesn't look in her direction. "Good morning, Mrs. Kaplan."

There's a click of the tongue as he opens the fridge, grabbing the milk and he sighs internally, shutting the stainless steel door (they have a _steal fridge_ instead of an old, rickety white fridge). "Call me Rebecca, dear."

The words are still gentle, still warm, but they make Tommy flinch slightly anyways, as he kneels down to grab the cereal in the bottom drawer. "Sorry," He mumbles, pushing Jeff's cereal out of the way before grabbing the one he wants and yanking it out. He had eaten Jeff's cereal _once_ and the family wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. He's never doing that again.

Mrs. Kaplan, Rebecca had tried to get him to call her _mom_ when he first showed up here only months before. But he was Not Down for that idea, so they had to compromised and had settled, sort of, on Rebecca.

Even then, he still struggled with it a lot. It felt too- _loose_ , too _comfy_ for Tommy's liking. Too casual, too _l_ _oving._

And sure, he cared about the Kaplan family but it was still... too much. Too familial, too personal.

They sit in a slightly uncomfortable silence as Tommy gets impatient and speeds to grab a bowl and pour the milk and cereal into it, putting the all back and grabbing a spoon before going back to normal speed to shove a spoonful into his mouth, standing awkwardly in the corner of the kitchen instead of sitting at the island as Mrs. Kaplan is, with an empty plate in front of her, her knife and fork crossed all fancy, sipping quietly on a mug of what he assumes is coffee, from the lingering smell.

Tommy shoves another shovel full into his mouth just as she speaks back up. "How are you?"

He can feel her eyes on him, calculating, can almost _sense_ her easing from normal-mom mode to therapist-mom mode, and stiffens up faintly. Swallows his mouthful, and shrugs, swirling his spoon in the darkening white liquid. "Good, I guess."

"You guess?" She hums, presses lightly, and Tommy just shrugs again. Doesn't give her the satisfaction. There's another pause, before he hears shuffling, and sees Mrs. Kaplan stand out of the corner of his eye. "Well, I'm here if you need anything."

He nods once, twice, as she places her mug in the sink beside him, shuffling aside to give her more space to do so.

He doesn't know _what_ brings him to say it. Whether its just the awkwardness of the moment and the way he feels on edge, the way Teddy and Billy are upstairs doing god knows what in their room, or the fact that he hasn't stopped thinking about his last shift. But just before Mrs. Kaplan can escape out to the living room, Tommy blurts out suddenly, randomly, unexpected even to him, "I think I have a crush on my coworker."

And then his face heats, and his eyes widen, and he glances _anywhere_ but at Mrs. Kaplan, who's paused in the doorway with a strange air around her. Because _what the fuck, why would you say that?_ Now he's gonna be stuck in this weird situation for even longer and he'll have to talk about something he does Not wanna talk about and he'll have to admit something he is Not Ready to admit and-

"Oh?" Mrs. Kaplan murmurs, soft soft soft, barely audible, and Tommy shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "Do you want to talk about it?"

_No._

Tommy swallows, his heart pounding in his chest. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? Right? "They're... very nice. And sweet." He starts, choosing each word carefully, relaxing a little as Rebecca makes a noise to show she's listening, a faint smile on her face, small crinkles by her eyes. "Hard working, and kind of stuck up, but I kinda like that about them? Quiet, too, but they always listen, even when I'm rambling about literally nothing. I used to think they weren't listening to me, cause most people don't," Rebecca frowns a little at that, but Tommy doesn't notice, continuing with a light smile, his flush darkening. "But they _do,_ everytime, and they always adds on, too, always keeps up the conversation. I even got his number, a bit ago, and we've been texting- a _lot_ and he's just... He's just- really really nice. And hot. Hot too."

She snorts at the ending, and Tommy chuckles, grinning, and there's a moment, then, a breath, a faint exhale of relief, before- "He sounds lovely."

Tommy beams, before the fire inside him is quickly stuffed out, swallowed by the icy cold waves of _fear_ as he realizes. _He_ sounds lovely. _He_.

_Shit._

Shit, shit, shit shit shit fuck no he wasnt- he's not-

Mrs. Kaplan goes to say something else, maybe at the petrified look Tommy's sure is on his face, but he's gone before the words can slip past her lips, race race racing away, his mind spinning and repeating over and over to _run run run run run-_

He doesn't know why he's running. Who, or maybe _what_ , he's trying to outrun.

Maybe it's himself.

He stops to lean against a tree, and doesn't bother to find out where the fuck he is outside of _in a forest_ before he groans loudly and bangs his head against the trunk, hard. Hard enough to send a spark of pain down his spine and make him groan again, rubbing at his forehead and reeling his hand back when he feels warm liquid on his hand, spotting the dark red splotches on his palm. Great, _awesome,_ exactly what he needed right now.

He turns around so his back is leaned against the tree, and slowly slips to the ground, shivering once, his thin pjs and patchy t-shirt doing nothing against the bitter near end winter winds. Yeah. Thats what it was, the wind.

Not the tears starting to roll down his cheeks. Not the memories flashing before his eyes, of his father screaming and mother crying, of raised fists and handcuffs, of needles moving closer and loud screams of agony. Not the chill that seeps into his bones and blood stream, slowly freezing him from the inside out.

And then, the freeze roars into a fire, and Tommy grits his teeth.

Because, how is it fair?

How is it fair, that his life has been hell since he was born?

How is it fair, that he didn't do anything wrong at the start, and still got all that pain? Suffering? Trauma?

How is it fair, that he gets to escape from that hell, only to find out that he has a twin who's life is _so much better than his?_

Who has friends that care for him, and cherish every moment they get with him. Who has a family that loves him and accepts him, no matter what. For being a mutant, for being a superhero. For being _gay._

Who _has a boyfriend_ , who loves every aspect and fiber of his being? Who he'll probably _marry_ someday, that's how perfect they are for each other?

And he knows, he _knows_ Billy's life hasn't been _easy_ , but its been _so much easier than his_ and its _so fucking unfair_ that it makes him want to scream, to kick and punch and wail.

And he does, the sound of his screech being heard for miles, shaking the leaves and scaring the birds. The sounds of his sobs as silent as the mice scurrying below him.

* * *

Thankfully (and that is a _weird_ word to use, given the circumstances), just as Tommy gets back from the forest, bracing himself for a Long Talk that he Didn't want to Have, the alarm Tommy has set for important notices on his phone blares out into the street.

Another alien invasion, not skrulls this time thankfully, but some species from another universe that somehow got to this one, and was now attacking citizens at random. For some reason.

At first, Tommy groans internally, considering rushing back to the forest, or the other side of the continent, just so he doesn't have to deal with it. But then he sees Billy and Teddy jump out their window, suited up (in Teddys case, shifted up), and rushing straight towards the danger. And just _seeing_ Billy's face, concentrated and focused, from a distance, makes Tommy seethe, makes his blood boil, and he thinks, _huh, maybe this could actually help him._ Blowing off some steam by beating up some aliens doesn't sound too bad.

Why not, you know? How could this horrible day get any worse, right?

He doesn't know _why_ he thinks things like that, because he _knows_ thats just asking for trouble.

And trouble he got, the aliens being Teddy sized (read, tall, big and _strong_ , holy _fuck_ ), and _not_ the smaller, simpler enemies he has sometimes that he can just uppercut once and call it a day.

No no, that'd be too _easy_.

It takes him at _l_ _east_ five quick time punches to get one alien down, and by then there's about five more surrounding him, all the same size or _bigger_ (if he hasn't so _bleh_ , he might've actually been turned on, cause _goddamn_ ). But, blood is rushing through his veins, pumping loudly in his ears, his adrenaline is kicking in, and he is _ready_ to kick some giant alien ass.

So he goes, going one at a time throughout the entire circle of them surrounding him, punching, kicking, pushing, elbows, knees, shoulders, whatever worked best to get them _down_ and _out_ the fastest (he gets a sickening pleased thrill that runs down his spine every time they hit the ground, and knows he should be disgusted with himself for it, knows he's hitting a little _too_ hard, a little _more_ than usual, but he can't get it in himself to care today).

And when all of them are out for the count, he stands still in the middle of the collapsed bodies (unconscious, not dead, he's not a murderer yet), leaning forward onto his knees and panting, wiping away the sweat on his brow. Its not the speed that's the issue, he could run for _hours_ and not get tired, but fighting always takes a lot out of him for some reason. He doesn't understand himself or his biology sometimes.

One minute, he's just stood there, minding his business and being pleased with himself for kicking some ass, for being badass (he's always badass, but in moments like this he can really _feel_ it), and the next, he's hearing a loud shrill "watch out!" And a spark of blue lightening zaps across his vision, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

Even then, he can still see the bright light of his powers through his eyelids, though it quickly vanishes, and Tommy blinks his eyes open again soon enough, turning to see Billy hovering behind him, wrapped in a blue glow, and another unconscious alien added to the pile.

Brown eyes are _glaring_ at him, though, and Tommy feels all of his defenses, all of his walls flair back up. "What the hell, Speed? Hawkeye was warning you about that for _minutes_ now."

Tommy just drops his gaze, his lip curling slightly as he kicks the ground, and feels with increased detail the piece of metal in his ear, their coms. Their way of communicating in battles, of keeping on the same page and touching base to make sure everyone makes it out alive, mostly unscathed.

The one Tommy had quickly shut off, near the beginning of the fight, when Billy's orders had left him unsettled, and made him wanna punch his stupidly perfect unfair face in.

Somehow, Billy seems to read his mind (he swears Billy's power includes mind reading, even if he's said that it doesn't), and raises a gloved hand to pinch his nose, like a disappointed parent scolding their child. "You turned it off, didn't you? Of course you did, its not like your safety's on the line or anything. Or _ours_."

Tommy grits his teeth, considering staying quiet before deciding _you know what? Fuck that._ "You can't tell me what to do."

"Seriously?" Billy drops his hand, and his glare deepens, a line in between his brows. He's getting to him. _Good._ "What are you, four?"

"Fuck off!" Tommy growls, kicking the ground again but harder, listening to the sounds of their teammates fighting around them, but not moving an inch to join back in. "Fuck _you_."

Billy just stares at him, before crossing his arms and raising a twitching brow. Defensive. Annoyed. "Whats up with you?" He murmurs harshly, tone dark, serious. "Mom told me you ran off in a rush earlier, and now you're acting like a dick-"

" _I'm_ the dick?" Tommy explodes, flailing out his arms and sneering at the man who looks identical to him stood only a few feet away. "You're the one who's fucking- flaunting himself all over the place!" Billy goes to retort, to spit something back, fingers digging into his own arms, but Tommy doesn't let him. "Oh look at me! I'm mister perfect!" Tommy mocks, prancing around with a higher pitched voice, grinning humorlessly as Billy's jaw stiffens. He's _pissed._ "I'm a straight A student with a perfect family and a perfect boyfriend and a big stupid perfect house, and a great fucking friend group! Who supports you! And is there for you! And _loves_ you! And yet I still have the _audacity_ to act sad all the time, and be _depressed_ -"

Sparks start to flicker around his hands, and the browns of his eyes start to shift into a darker, deeper color. Starting to mix into an unnatural blue, as his nostrils flair and his fingers clench again. "Is that what this is about? Your jealousy?"

Tommy just laughs, bitter, and takes a step closer, watching as Billy's head raises and his shoulder square, facing him head on. "Come on, lil bro. _Zap me._ " He taunts, pushing forward until they're face to face, until Tommy can _s_ _ee_ the shift of his eyes up close, the swirl of whatever thoughts he's having, sees the way the sparks pick up, more and more starting to surround them. "I know you want to."

"Tommy," Billy warns, low and _dangerous,_ as the smell of lightning fills the air.

"Do it."

" _Tommy-_ "

"Just _do it already!"_

" _E_ _NOUGH!_ " A hand grabs at his shoulder and throws him away, harshly, sending him stumbling away, and Tommy turns back to glare only to freeze at Kates murder stance stood steps away from him, sees Teddy holding Billy back and murmuring _something_ into his ear. Billy's gaze is still on him, but he looks _crushed_ instead of angry now, and Tommy feels sick. "What the hell was that?!?"

"Nothing," He mutters, not giving them another look as he turns away. The fighting has stopped, so the battle is clearly won. He's no longer needed. They'll attend to Billy. Make sure he's okay. He'll probably be unwanted too, now, anyways. "Nothing important."

And before any of them can respond, to bite back, to do _anything_ , there's a rush of wind, and Tommy is gone.

* * *

He doesnt know why he ends up back at the Kaplan house. Why he ends up back in the room he shares with Billy, _knowing_ Billy will be back sometime soon. Knowing he should pack up his shit and _leave_ , before the Kaplan's tell him to themselves.

He doesn't know why he's ignoring the buzzing in his hand either.

Its not his teammates (because why would it be?), but David, instead. David, who's been texting him almost everyday for weeks, now. David, who's so kind, and generous, and sweet. David, who is... _perfect,_ and deserves so so much _better_ than him.

David, who he's been ignoring for the past few days. And now, all of today. Who still keeps texting and calling anyways, maybe worried about him, maybe just trying to get a shift covered. Who knows (Tommy does, but if he convinces himself its for the latter, the black hole of guilt swallowing him whole shrinks, just a little).

He doesn't bother to check one way for the other. Just stares at the illuminating screen as the number goes up. 23 unread messages. Another buzz. 24.

He wonders if it'll stop. If eventually, David will get tired of him and leave. It'd be for the better.

( _For who? Him or you?_ His mind asks, quietly. Tommy ignores it.)

He hears the stairs creaking, and tenses, but doesn't move. Continues to stare down at his phone, in his hands, in his lap, as the footsteps approach, as the door shifts open before stopping moments after, as the man in the doorway just... stands there. As he feels a gaze burning into his skull.

And he waits, with bated breath, waits to see if Billy will say anything, tell him to get out with words or with body language, or with a zap or two or five, but after a few minutes, the brunet just... sighs. Exhales a slow breath, before padding into the room, clicking the door shut behind him and throwing off his red cape, stripping off his suit. As if Tommy wasn't there. As if nothing had even happened.

He doesn't know if he prefers this, the lingering tension, the awkward silence, the- the _ignoring_ over what he thought was going to happen. More yelling. More running. More-

More _loss._

But before Tommy had make a plan, to speak up, to run, to apologize, to leave, something _anything,_ there's a whisper, barely audible from across the room. "...I didn't ask for this."

Tommy's the one to exhale, now, loud and pained, rubbing at his face before turning towards Billy, stood in the corner of the room, dressed up in a nerdy science pun t-shirt and baby yoda pjs, arms crossed and head down, curls falling in front of his eyes and blocking some of his face. "I didnt- ask to be adopted into an amazing family, or to- to be smart academically, or to get this friend group." He waves his hand, then, towards the costume still bundled on the floor, before running his hand through his hair and leaning his head back. Tommy winces when he sees the swirls of upset in his irises, the red rims surrounding them. "I didn't ask for these powers, or for- for Teddy. I didn't ask to be this _lucky_."

Tommy drops his gaze as Billy's tone turns pleading, almost, as his voice shakes and his lip wobbles. "I know-" He murmurs back, but Billy cuts him off.

"Let me finish. _Please._ " He nods, and Billy takes a deep breath, kicking off of the wall and moving closer to Tommy, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, immediately picking at the sheets. "I didn't ask for this," He repeats, voice strong and firm again, and he raises his head, chin sticking out as he continues, "But I'm _not_ sorry about it. I'm sorry you got a shitty hand, I _am_. I'm sorry life was so, so horrible to you. I couldn't imagine all the stuff you've gone through, all the pain and- and sorrow..." Tommy sees his phone screen blurring as it buzzes again in his lap, and presses his lips together, blinks repeatedly. "But I'm _not_ sorry for the way my life has turned out. I'm _notn_ sorry for the good things in my life. And I'm _not_ going to apologize for things I can't control." Billy seems to deflate again, then, huffing out a breath and dripping his head again, gone quiet again. " _Especially_ about my mental health issues. That was a low blow, dude."

"I know," Tommy echoes, hating the way the words come out thick, heavy and hollow, and swallows, hoping to rid of the lump in his throat. "Im- I'm _sorry."_

And he _is,_ God he is. He doesn't know what to do, or how to- put the pieces back together to _fix_ this. He normally doesn't get the chance.

But Billy is _giving_ him the chance, and he _wants_ to take it, but- he feels riled up, his fists clenching and unclenching- but he doesn't know _how_. He doesn't feel like he deserves it, either. Knows he'll only hurt him, again and again and again. Its all he ever does.

Billy raises his head and gives him a faint smile, though, and all Tommy can wonder is _why_. "I know. I know you're sorry. I know you didn't mean it." He scratches at the back of his neck, subconsciously and shrugs. "You're just... hurt. If there's one thing therapy has taught me, its that insecurities are normal, especially at our age. That doesn't make it okay to take them out on other people," Tommy winces at the dig, but doesn't bite back. He deserved it. "But they're normal. Especially if you've gone through boat loads of trauma." Tommy glances away, God he hates being psychoanalyzed. "It _also_ doesn't mean they're _right."_

Tommy blinks back up, then, browns connecting with greens, tree bark to emeralds, and somehow, surprisingly, he keeps the connection as Billy places a hand over his own. "You may not have had a- a good family, or friends, or _anything_ before, Tommy, but..." He shrugs, once, almost bashfully. "We're here now. You know that, right? That you have us? That we're here for you, if you want us to be?"

Tommy just blinks again, ignoring the way tears roll down his cheeks, dripping from his chin. "Why?" He croaks, and Billy just smiles, soft and sad, but genuine.

"Because we love you." He acts like it's obvious, simple and easy, the main formula to an equation Tommy can't solve, and it sends him reeling.

_We love you._

He knew, deep down, in the back of his mind. Knew they cared, knew they didn't have to be around him if they didn't want to be. But _love?_

The Young Avengers? The Kaplans?

...David?

_Love?_

They _love_ him?

"Oh," Tommy responds, dumbly, and Billy just snorts.

"Oh." The brunet taps his hand, and glances away, for a moment, before looking back, with a swirl to his eye and a warm smile. "I know you didn't have the life you wanted growing up, but... maybe you can start having it now." Before adding on, abruptly, cheeks flushing slightly. "If you want to. Obviously."

Tommy chuckles, faintly, sniffling once. Nodding. "Yeah. Yeah id- like that." And then he's falling forward, knocking his forehead against Billy's collarbone, and feeling him tense, before relaxing, wrapping his arms around Tommys back as Tommy's arms go around his waist. "Thank you." He mumbles into his shirt, squeezing tightly once, before pulling away, teasing. "And sorry, again, for uh. Being a dick."

Billy just shakes his head, waves him off with a twinkle in his eye. "You're always a dick." Tommy scoffs, insulted, but Billy runs over whatever dramatic thing he was going to say in response. "Now, I'm beat, so please, get the fuck off my bed." When Tommy leans back, grinning cheekily at him, so so thankful that the tension in the air is slowly slipping away, Billy just narrows his eyes at him, and warns, "Tommy, I will magic you to the other side of the earth."

He laughs, loud and boisterous, before pushing himself up, ignoring the buzz in his hand and climbing up the ladder to the top bunk, having already changed into pjs when he first got back. He thinks the conversation is going to drop there, as Billy _looked_ exhausted, but then he hears a grumble cone from below him. "And ask him _out_ already, would you?"

Tommy chokes, coughing on his spit as Billy _laughs_ and laughs below him, the speedster glaring at the bed, hoping the hear will burn through the sheets and get to the boy he knows is below him. "Fuck off," He falls back onto the mattress, letting his eyes fall closed before they shoot back up, and he tenses. "How do you- even know about that?"

"...Mom might've snitched. Don't tell her I told you."

Tommy stifles a sigh, because _of course_ she did, before scrunching his eyebrows at the ceiling. Theres another buzz on his stomach. "And she's okay with it?"

There's a pause, and he thinks that maybe Billy fell asleep, but then, "... _dude_. I have a boyfriend."

"Its a genuine question!" Tommy defends, flaring his arms out and yelping as his fist smacks against the cieling. " _Ow_."

Billy just snorts again, shuffling. "Dumbass." Before, softer, "Goodnight, Tommy. Love you."

"Goodnight." Tommy calls, waiting until he hears his breathing even out, and then, "...love you, too."

Before he can overthink it, or think about it _at all_ , Tommy flicks open his phone, clicks on David's messages, not even reading his old (and new) ones before typing out quickly.

_**sorru bout everything, want 2 grab coffee tmr? my treat** _

* * *

This was a horrible idea. Like, take the worst thing you can think of, and times it by ten, cause this was the _worst_ idea in _all of existence_.

Why did he let Billy fool him into doing this? Why did he think he could do this? He could Not do this. Nuh uh, no way in hell, why why _why why why-_

But before he could turn on foot and rush away from the coffee shop, illunated brightly by the neon sigh above the door, a darker hand grasps gently at his upper arm. "Tommy?"

Ah shit. No running now.

"David!" He grins big, trying to play it cool as he turns back towards the taller man, who's eyebrow is raised and is giving him a look that tells him he is not buying _any_ of Tommy's bullshit. "You made it!"

David's eyes soften, like autumn leave in the sunlight. "Of course I did. You think I'd leave you high and dry?" _Like you did to me_ goes unsaid, but it still makes Tommy wince, the implications of it there.

He stretched the back of his head, his neck, and smiles, bashfully, sheepishly. "No, never." The way he says it is a little too forward, too _honestly_ makes him cough, trying to ignore the burning of his cheeks as he drops his gaze. May as well get straight to the point. "Listen, Davie- David, I'm sorry. For yesterday, and the day before, and the day before-"

"I get it," David cuts him off curtly, but his lip is twitching, so Tommy knows he isn't _too_ upset. Thank god.

"I can explain?" He extends the olive branch, glancing back up through his hair and holding his breath, as David tilts his eyes and thinks, the little line between his brows that always appears when he's considering options, pros and cons, thoughts and feelings from this life or the many others stored up there.

He exhales heavily as David nods, and shrugs, acting nonchalant even if they both know he's anything but. "Only if you buy me coffee first."

"Deal!"

They go inside, and Tommy goes up to order after asking what David wanted (a black coffee, and a blueberry muffin), while he finds them a seat in the back, in one of the many booths. There's not too many people in the store today, just enough to keep them busy and keep it cozy. Once Tommy grabs the goods, he takes a deep breath (resolutely ignoring the wink and the good luck given from the barista) and makes his way over.

Tommy slides into the opposite seat, going for a confident grin and only being able to muster a soft, loving smile as David glances up at him from the newspaper he had found somewhere along the way, and _god_ he's so gorgeous. Smooth darker skin and light eyes illuminated by his yellow glasses, a crooked grin that brightens his entire face, with little crinkles and dimples and dips. He has a few imperfections, too, a few scars and moles, but he's just... amazing, and Tommy has to remind himself to breath, taking a gulp of his own coffee (with two cremes, and too many sugars, because black coffee is disgusting and he'll stand by that) as he passes over David's.

He doesn't hear David's thank you over the blood rushing in his ears, only watches his (defined, chisled) jaw as he chews, his (long, collumned) neck as he swallows, his (plump, _perfect_ ) lips open to say _something_ , but before that _something_ could come out, Tommy blurts, breathily, "I really like you."

And then he really, really, really wishes he could smack himself. Across the face. Really fucking hard.

David chokes, slightly, swallowing the bite of his muffin that he had taken before coughing into his fist, and Tommy is as stiff as a board, glancing towards where he knows the door is, behind him. He could run. Be out of here before David could even blink.

He won't. David deserves better than that (deserves better than _him_ ). But he _could._

(And a small, tiny part of him thinks he _should._ )

"Just so I understand this right," David speaks back up, and Tommy jerks his head back towards him, jaw clenched and eyes wide, face burning. He doesn't look _upset,_ though, just... pensive. Thoughtful. Maybe even... hopeful? "Not in a friend way?"

Tommy scans over his features, seeing nothing but genuinely curiosity, honesty, a swirl of _something_ else in his eyes but it doesn't look _bad_ , so he deflates a bit, and nods, once, slow but firm. "I- yeah," He glances down at the table, before looking back. "Yeah, like. In a Like like kinda way." Maybe Billy was right. Maybe he was four years old. "And thats, uh, thats why I didnt answer before, too, because I was kinda- kinda freaking out and didn't know how to handle it and then I told mo- Mrs. Kaplan by accident and then the whole battle thing happened and me and Billy got into a fight andIfiguredyouwouldn'tlikemeanywaysso-"

"Woah, woah-" David waves around a hand, and Tommy closes his mouth with an audible click. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth is a line, and Tommy longs for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. But whats new? "Okay- one," He raises one finger. "You and Billy got into a fight?"

Tommy feels his face scrunch up, like he ate something sour. "Yeah. My fault. We talked it out though."

"Thats good," David murmurs, wrapping his free hand around his coffee as if seeping its warmth. "Im glad you worked it out." Tommy just hums, and they sit in a moment of silence, listening to the murmurs of the others in the room, the air thick with tension of _some_ kind, before David continues, sticking up another finger. "Two, there was a battle?"

"Yeah," Tommy stifles a groan. This is _not_ what he wanted to discuss right now. David was either teasing him real bad, or he was trying to let him down gently. The door is looking really, _really_ tempting. "Aliens from another universe. Giant ones. Billy saved me, thats- uh, why we. Fought."

"Because he saved you?"

Tommy wants to smash his head into the table. "Yup." Is all he lets out, and David, finally seeming to sense of fucking tense this situation was (or _Tommy_ was, anyways), taking pity on him by leaning back and chuckling, lightly, airy and gentle. But he doesn't say anything, just stares, but his features are soft, so so soft, and Tommy shifts, uncomfortable under the intensity and trying to ignore the way his heart is soaring with hope. "What?"

And then his eyes turn a little sad, and Tommy freezes. "You really don't think I like you back." Its not said as a question, but as a statement, and it sends him spinning, cause what kind of sentence is that? What is he supposed to say to that? He just shrugs, and nods. Because _why would he?_ He doesn't speak it out loud, Billy already had a talk with him about _insecurities_ , he doesn't need another one from David. A hand lays on top of his own, and Tommy jumps, barely but noticeable, though David doesn't move it. Just squeezes, once, and when Tommy reconnects their eyes, he can't help but smile back at David's contagious, teasing grin. "You really are as dense as I thought."

Tommy barks out an unexpected laugh, a little hysterical as his heart pounds, and David chuckles along too. He places his free hand on his chest, and scoffs dramatically. " _Wow_. Not all of us can be super-geniuses, Davie."

David just snorts, loudly, squeezing his hand again and bringing Tommy's attention back _to_ their hands, and his ear tips burn as he slowly drags his hand back and carefully, carefully intertwines their fingers, watching in case he didn't want it, or pulled back. But he never does.

"So..."

"So?"

Tommy stares up at him through his eyelashes, biting at the inside of his cheek as his nerves shoot up again. "What- are? We? Now?"

David just tilts his head again, smirking wide. "Why don't you kiss me and find out?" And then, his confidence falters, and he adds quickly, in a rush, "If you want to, obviously, no pressure-"

Tommy feels like he's ascended to some beautiful, wonderful otherworldly plane (and thats saying a lot, seeing as he's _been_ to other worlds), and cuts David off, practically jumping over the table to press a kiss to his lips.

When David places his hands on either side of his face, his lips pressing back, Tommy feels everything click into place.

And when he gets home later that night, after they talked some more and discussed some labels (he has a boyfriend now. A boyfriend!!!!), Mrs. Kaplan just gives him a knowing look, hugs him gently, pressing a light kiss to his temple as a congratulations, and Tommy, surprisingly, hugs her back, giddy and, for once in his life, full of overwhelming hope.

* * *

"Tommy! Hey, Happy birthday!!" Kate rounds him up into a tight bug, and he chokes, slightly (a little obviously, just for the antics, fumbling out a wheeze "Thanks, Katie"), before squeezing her back, just as firm.

Its a bitter fall afternoon, September 9th to be exact, a few months since the whole fight-battle-kiss thing, and Tommy felt... weird. Off. Not in a bad way, though, definitely not in a bad way, just... _different._

He wasn't used to celebrating on this day. This was _Billy's_ birthday, and he was still kind of wrapping his head around the fact that that meant it was _his_ birthday, too. He still couldn't believe they were twins sometimes, even if they have the same face and same body type (and the same attitude, as David and Teddy would teasingly point out on their double dates, when both of them would cough and sputter and try to prove them wrong, even if they both knew they were secretly, probably right).

His old birthday was in the winter, December 25th, cold and harsh, bitter and swallowed with grief as he remembers begging for a birthday, begging for even just a Christmas (he hadn't known of his Jewish heritage back then, still struggles to understand the workings of Judaism even now) or _something_ , before his parents (his _old_ parents) would shrug him off, and tell him that they couldn't afford it. The new toys that would magically appear in the other kids hands for the next few weeks always begged to differ. At least, that date was what he was told, thats the date stuck into his head, but it had never been put onto his record, his fostering papers, and so he wonders. Wonders if they told him that just to shut him up. Wonders if they told him that to make sure he wouldn't complain _two_ days out of the year instead of one. Wonders if they told him that just to take away a little _more_ of his childhood innocence.

But it doesn't matter now. None of that matters now.

He gets a new start. A new chance.

It doesn't make the changes, the gifts, the _company_ any less weird though.

"Come on," Kate breaks him out of his thoughts, rushing out of the hug with big smile and warm eyes hidden behind the purple tilted sunglasses that she always wore indoors that Tommy _loved_ to make fun of ("Sunglasses indoors, Bishop? What are you, some Tony Stark wannabe?"). "Show me where your brother is, gotta wish him a happy birthday too."

Tommy rolls his eyes, ignoring the way his heart swells just a little at _your brother_. "Well, you don't _have_ to-"

She just punches him in the shoulder in response, and he yelps loudly, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the living room, over the sounds of chatter from the others flopped over the couches, having varied discussions about who knows what.

"Hey," Calls from behind them, and the soothing, deeper tone washes over Tommy in waves, making him instantly relax and grin just a little bit wider. "Keep your hands off my boyfriend, Bishop."

"Up yours, Alleyne," The girl scoffs, giving Tommy a teasing smirk that he resolutely _ignores_ by turning to face David, his _boyfriend_ (that still made him irrationally giddy), seeing his face soften as he glances from Kate to him.

"Davie!" He rushes towards the man, stopping just to wave to the living room haphazardly for Kate and blurt out, "Billy's that way," before continuing on his trek and pressing a long, heavy kiss to David's lips, grinning against his mouth as arms wrap around his waist and keep him close.

David's skin is cold to the touch as he wraps his arms around his neck and rubs their noses together, the metal of his glasses even cooler. "Happy birthday, baby," the taller man murmurs against his lips, sending a shiver down Tommy's spine before he pulls away to look the man in the eye, behind the now fogged up yellow glasses and into the orbs that look like suns, the stars his galaxy revolves around, the warmth to his icarus.

"Thank _you_ for coming," Tommy responds lamely, still not really knowing how to respond to things (how do you respond to happy birthday? How?), leaning forward to brush their foreheads together and giggle away his nerves. "You're the best gift I got all night."

"Oh gross!" Tommy sighs at the telltale sign of his _little_ little brothers voice from behind him, slowly squeezing his eyes shut. Andrew always comes first, and then-

"Get a room!" Yup, there's Nick, and then the two dissolve into giggles, scattering out of the hallway before Tommy could even turn to spit something back, or run after them and headlock them into submission.

Tommy sighs again, louder this time, before he blinks back at David, who's staring just behind him with wild amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Sorry about them," He shrugs helplessly, not really all _that_ sorry, and David can tell if the snort that comes afterwards says anything.

"They're right though," And of course, to round it all off, here comes the other birthday boy if the night, his _other_ little brother, Billy, his hair all askew as if something ran their hands through it, with a birthday hat onto his head, a pair of simple jeans and a star wars shirt. He turns to him, then, and narrows his eyes into a heavy glare, just as Billy raises his hands in faux surrender. "Woah, I'm just saying! You're gonna miss out on cake if you're out here smootching all night."

"I gave you your time with Teddy," He whines, genuinely, full blown whines at the brunet, who just rolls his eyes, in an action _way_ too similar to the one Tommy had done moments before with Kate.

"That was _before_ all of our guests showed up," He reasons, and Tommy groans. Of course he goes all logical and smartypants on him now. "You can have your "time" with David after. Or later," Billy corrects with a hum, pointing a finger on his chin, like a dumbass. "Cause gifts come after cake."

"Plus," Teddy chips in from right next to them, scaring the shit out of Tommy. For a bigger guy, Teddy is freakishly quiet when he wanted to be (and he definitely wanted to be, the faint snicker and evil grin telling it all). "I got here early."

Billy beams and leans into Teddy as Tommy groans again, knowing where this is leading. "Yeah, exactly, my smart man."

"My handsome man," Teddy murmurs back, wrapping an arm around him tight and looking sappily into his eyes, like a fucking Hallmark movie when the snows falling all around them and they're underneath a mistletoe.

"My prince,"

"My _leige,"_

Tommy gags, literally, and David laughs. "God, you guys are the worst."

"No you," Billy bites back playfully, glaring at Tommy with a glimmer in his eyes, before they're all interrupted by another voice, lighter and more feminine, _Mrs. Kaplan_ , coming from the kitchen.

"Now, are the two birthday boys gonna hide out all the time, or are we gonna have some cake?"

The twins scoff together, before staring at each other with wide eyes. And then everyone bursts into laughter, Teddy dragging Billy towards the kitchen as Billy calls out a "Coming!", leaving David and Tommy ( _thankfully, finally_ ) alone again, even if its for a tiny, way too short amount of time.

David runs a hand down his arm, before intertwining their fingers and squeezing once. His eyes are fireplaces, homey and safe, and Tommy feels warm. "Ready to go enjoy your day?"

Tommy just grins. "You betcha!"

And they do. They eat cake, and Tommy smashes a piece into Billy's face, who sputters and rubs frosting on Tommy's face in retaliation. Which starts a food fight, with cake flung _everywhere_ and frosting all over the place, but when Tommy realizes, winces and apologizes, The Kaplans just wave him off. They'll clean it later, they said, don't worry.

Then comes the gifts (after they all washe the gunk off of themselves), which are _plentiful_ and Tommy doesn't know what he's going to do with all of this stuff. Eli gives him a leather jacket that looks _badass_ , and he promises to wear it when he goes on a long run someday, just to look fucking _sick_. Katie gave him a new sleek silver watch that looks _way_ too expensive, more expensive than his _l_ _ife,_ but Kate refuses to tell him the cost, and almost, _almost_ makes him cry when she responds with "Nothing is worth the cost of you, Tommy." (He refuses to admit it, though, even as the others give him a bit of shit for it). America gives him a star trek poster, the first show Billy had ever gotten him into, and she only nudges him heavily with her shoulder when he thanks her, a little too genuine. Teddy and Billy give him shirts, having obviously bought them together, but he can't seem to mind when its the exact type of shirt he loves (a sweater shirt, just baggy enough to be comfy but tight fit enough to not fly away when he races around). And David...

Fucking David. Amazing, perfect David got him tickets to see a band he had bitched and moaned and complained about not being able to go see at work one time ( _one time,_ and he had somehow remembered), a small little stuffie of a cute noodles bowl, and a way too sappy, sentimental letter that Tommy Did Not cry at, because _fuck_ it was perfect, and _fuck_ he loves him, he loves him So goddamn much.

He tells him as such, pressing an almost lewd kiss to his lips, pulling back with aching, burning cheeks and the biggest best squeeze in his heart he never thought he'd feel. And David just smiles back, making him melt in his arms.

"Hey Tom?" Jeff calls, from the corner of the room, and Tommy breaks David's gaze to glance over at him, tilts his head curiously as the older man waves him over.

He presses another peck to David's lips as another thank you, before standing and slipping past all of his friend, Kate and America holding hand and whispering between each other, conniving _something,_ Eli and Teddy making gentle small talk and laughing about something (and isn't _that_ a look, Eli, _laughing_. Only Teddy could pull such a feat), and Billy scanning through all of the comics he had received from Teddy, surrounded by the multitude of other gifts he had gotten from the others (a few blurays of movies he loves, posters, figurines, a few board games and a bunch of other nerdy stuff that's right down Billy's lane).

He shifts into the kitchen, shocked to see that it's mostly clean, now, and even more shocked to see Mr. And Mrs. Kaplan, Jeff and Rebecca, looking at him with weird expressions on his face, mostly good, joyous, content, but also... nerves?

It sets him on edge, he kind of feels like he's walking into a trap, but pushes the thought aside as he steps further into the room, right into their clutches. "Uh- you... wanted me?"

"We did," Rebecca says calmly, smiling gentle gentle gentle at him, and hesitantly, Tommy smiles back. "We wanted to ask you something, away from prying eyes and ears."

Tommy's eyebrows furrow, but before he can ask, or any anything, Jeff chips in, placing a heavy hand onto his shoulder, forcing their eyes to connect. "You don't have to say yes. Its all up to you, and what you're comfortable with, don't feel pressured."

"But we felt like it was time to ask," Rebecca finishes for him, and Jeff's green eyes are so intense, staying back into his, that it makes him even more anxious, even more worried. What are they gonna ask? Are they-

His stomach drops. Are they gonna ask him to _leave?_

"O-okay." He whispers, shaky, and holds his breath, braces himself.

A lighter, lithe hand presses into his other shoulder, and Tommy can't help it, he drops his gaze as words start to fill the air. "Tommy..." He tenses, oh god he's not ready for this- "Do you want to be adopted?"

Wait. _What?_

His eyes shoot open, and he glances between Rebecca and Jeff, scans over their features to see if this is- is some sick joke or something, but all he sees is _honesty,_ pure raw honesty, and love, and- and-

And his vision is blurring, again, another lump growing in his throat. He's... they want...

"Again, you don't have to say yes." Jeff repeats softly, gaze flickering across his face. "We just figured we'd ask."

"Because we want to," Rebecca murmurs, and the older man nods. "But we'll do whatever you're comfortable with."

They want to?

They want to adopt him? They-

They want him? As their _son?_

Thats the thought that sends everything bubbling over, sends the tears rolling down his face and the sob to spill out of his mouth, a hand coming up to cover his lips as he stares at them both in- in shock and awe, and he sees them both glance at each other, nervous, scared, afraid, they're nervous, why are they-

Until he realizes, and blurts out before they can say anything, "Yes!" They turn back to him, as he wipes his cheeks and nods once twice three times, again and again. "Yeah, yes, I- oh my god-" He chokes off, rushing forward with a burst of wind to hug them both so so so tight, and the adults seem to fall into surprised, breathy laughter, surrounding him on either side and holding him close. "Thank you," He croaks, still crying, still sobbing, but so so fucking- happy and excited and hopeful and _holy shit-_ "Thank you, thank you, I- I love you."

He can feel them look at each other over his head, but he doesn't care, doesn't care about anything right now but this moment, as they squeeze him tighter and press kisses into his air, saying that they love him too.

A few minutes after, he walks out with tear stains on his face and the biggest smile known to man, and tells the others the news. His brother (his actual, _legal_ _brother,_ now, soon) jumps up first to celebrate, to hold him tight and whoops loudly, which gets the whole room going, all of his friend, his _family_ surrounding him in one giant hug that sends him into tears again, so so overwhelmed but so so _happy._

He lifts his chin over Billy shoulder, and glances out the window on a whim, spotting the bright, white moon, watching over them. He feels her aura, feels her joy for him, her light brushing away his tears and wrapping around his swollen heart, making him feel whole. _Thank you_ , he whispers to her through the breeze, as arms squeeze around him, before pushing his face back down into his brothers neck and falling back into this moment of pure, unfiltered bliss, surrounded by his family, his friends, his lover.

He feels excited. Joyful. Hopeful.

And, most importantly, he feels _loved._

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :))


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